Mr Meows
by Machungwa63
Summary: Rated T, to be safe, for disturbing themes and mild language. The second in a series of horror shorts that I'm doing in preparation for Halloween. "Edith" was the first., but you needn't have read that in order to get this. PLOT: Simba returns from a two week vacation to learn that the prides bordering the Pridelands are falling apart.


"Wahoo! Time for our vacation!" exclaimed Timon, sealing up a couple of clips on a vine-made suitcase.

"How much vacation time does Simba give you?" asked Zazu, watching them pack.

"Not enough," replied Timon, setting the suitcase up on Pumbaa's back.

"Besides," added Pumbaa, "Simba's coming with us!"

_"WHAT!?"_

Simba chuckled lightly, arriving on the scene.

"Don't worry Zazu. It's just for two weeks. And you, Nala, my mom and the rest of the pride will all be here to guard it."

Zazu sighed. "Well, I guess I'm not going to be able to talk you all out of this. Where are you all going?"

"The oasis," replied Simba.

"Hakuna Matata!" exclaimed Timon.

"Of course," Zazu replied. "Why would you go anywhere else?"

"Alright Zazu. Time for us to head out," Simba stated. Timon hopped up onto Pumbaa's back and the warthog and lion began to move off. "See you in two weeks!"

**Two weeks later:**

"We're back!" announced Simba, leading a disgruntled Timon and Pumbaa back into the Pridelands. Zazu, Rafiki and Nala were all there to greet him.

"Okay," stated Simba, before any of them had a chance to say anything, "now, I'm just going to take a deep breath. Then, in less than ten seconds each, you're all going to tell me your main concerns with the Pride Lands."

Simba took a deep breath.

"Go."

"Therewasaroguehyenaonthesouthernborderand-" "I ran out of de berries dat make de blue drink and…" "…the western border is looking really bad, zebra are using it to hide and…" "-soItoldSarabiandshethoughtthatIshouldinformyouup on-" "…now de potion could be used by de giraffes to…" "…so we've been trying to hunt on the southern border but the prey there is harder to catch and…" "soIwaswaitingforyoutocomebacksothatyoucoulddosome thingaboutit." "…so I t'ought I'd wait for you to come back so dat you could do somet'ing about it." "…so we've been waiting for you to come back to see if you could do something about it."

A long moment of silence followed as the ten seconds were now up.

"Phew, okay," Simba replied, signaling with a swipe of his paw that most of it had flown over his head. "Zazu, don't worry too much about the rogue. A hyena clan five miles north of us recently lost their matriarch so a lot of rogues are relocating now. Rafiki, we've got some of the blue berries for you. You told me about that before I left and they should be in Timon's suitcase. Nala, the lands you're talking about are on a disputed border we have with the western lands. I stopped by to see their king on the way home. He'll look into it."

"Thank you Simba," chorused his subjects, satisfied with all of his answers.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No sire," replied Zazu.

"Not as of right now," replied Rafiki.

"You want us to catch dinner for you tonight?" asked Nala.

"No, that's alright Nala. We're all stuffed from the bugs we ate – aren't we, guys?"

"You said it," replied Pumbaa, letting out a loud burp for emphasis.

"You sure?" asked Nala. "We're going hunting anyways."

"Keep the spoils for yourselves," replied Simba. "I'm going back to Pride Rock to rest. Been a long travel, you know."

* * *

A whole two days passed before Simba caught up with his friends again. He found them rolling over in laughter towards the long grass that had been creeping up on them from the western border.

"No, wait, even better…" exclaimed Timon, "…Footloose!"

Pumbaa joined his friend again, rolling over in a fit of laughter. A very perplexed Simba made his way up towards them.

"Ooh…ooh…wait, Timon…how about, Tippy?"

Timon let out a long burst of laughter, almost draining him of oxygen. "Stop it! Stop it!" he exclaimed, pounding the ground with his fist. Simba was still confused.

"Oh…no…wait…you know what's better, Pumbaa? Tripod!"

Simba wasn't as confused anymore.

"Are you two making fun of Adrian?" he asked disgusted.

"Aw, that's his name?" Timon replied. "That's not very fun."

"How would _you_ like to be born with three legs?" Simba snapped back.

"Wouldn't bother me," Timon replied. "I only use two of them."

"Well stop it," Simba commanded. "It's not nice. Adrian is a very nice monarch who gets along very well with us. He was meeting with me today to discuss diplomatic relations. He is the king of the pride that borders us to the south."

"Wow, didn't need _that_ geography lesson," Timon replied. "Look, Simba, you need to lighten up some. Have a laugh! We've only been back from our vacation two days, perhaps you're just running low on bug juice."

"Yeah," Pumbaa agreed, "come to the termite mounds with us! I, for one, always get upset when I go a day without a termite!"

Simba moaned. "Sorry guys," he replied, "I can't. I told Nala I'd dine with her tonight."

"Pfbt," Timon scoffed. "What's she going to do? Leave you? Doubt it. Come with us."

"Well…"

"We saw plenty of grasshoppers there earlier," Timon added.

"Grasshoppers?" Simba asked, excited. "Really?"

"Gotta get them before they're gone."

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Simba exclaimed, bounding off into the distance.

Timon and Pumbaa high-fived each other. They always enjoyed spending time with their friend.

* * *

Simba made his way back to Pride Rock late that night, only to be greeted by a very disgruntled Nala at the base of the structure.

"Hi Nala," called Simba.

Nala cleared her throat as he passed her on by.

"Forget something?" she called after him.

"That I was meant to have dinner with you tonight? Yeah."

"And is there a good reason?" added the lioness, glaring at him.

"Nala, seriously, it was just one time. You know how persuasive Timon and Pumbaa can be."

"I haven't eaten with you in three weeks! You don't understand why I'm just a little upset?"

"I do. I really do. It's just…"

"Don't muddle your priorities up Simba, please. You're my mate. You really mean a lot to me. I just need assurance that I really mean a lot to you."

"You do, Nal', of course you do. You weren't the first lion I met in the jungle, you know that, don't you? Yet you were the one I chose to come back with."

Nala, however, didn't respond. Her expression had completely changed.

"I—wasn't?" she asked.

"Wasn't what?"

"The first lion you met in the jungle?"

"No…I—I guess I never told you about that. Lots of lions came on by. Most of them young rogues or cubs on the flee. They never really stayed more than one or two nights though."

"Why did you never tell me about this?"

"I thought I did. What does it matter anyways? I never really got acquainted with any of them."

"Huh," Nala replied. "No, you, eh, never told me about that." At this, she sighed, returning to her initial conversation. "Please, though Simba, I love sitting down to eat with you. Please join me tomorrow night, okay?"

"Will do love," the lion king promised. "Will do."

* * *

Simba was pacing the western border late one evening, wondering why the long grass was continuing to move in on them. The sun had just dipped behind the horizon when Simba was greeted to a hornbill's version of the word 'hello.'

"INTRUDER!" exclaimed Zazu, swooping down from the sky and taking his place next to Simba. "Sire, I found an intruder on the Southern border!"

"What kind of intruder?" asked Simba.

"A lioness…looks like Maziwi, a lioness from Adrian's pride. I would caution you though, you can never be too sure," warned Zazu.

"Yes, Zazu, I know," Simba replied. "Alright, let the others know where I am. I'll be back in a bit."

"Yes sire!" replied Zazu, saluting his king before whirling around and taking back off into the sky.

* * *

Nala drummed her paws impatiently on a rock slab that lied next to the waterhole.

"Where _is_ he?" she asked aloud.

"Where is who?" Rafiki asked back, appearing out of nowhere onto the scene.

"Simba," Nala replied, not the least bit surprised at their shaman's sudden appearance. It was something one got used to after a while. "He promised he'd meet me here tonight."

"I heard your mate was informed of an intrusion on the southern border," lectured Rafiki. "Zazu informed me that it looked like de lioness Mawizi from the southern pride. Simba should be safe."

"As long as he's not eating bugs with Timon and Pumbaa again, he'll be safe from me."

The mandrill cackled. "Aw, don't worry, dear Nala. A lion cannot live off of bugs. He will dine with you tonight, for sure."

"Then why isn't he here?" asked Nala, annoyed.

"I don't know," Rafiki replied earnestly. He then pointed his staff off into the distance. "Perhaps you should ask him."

Nala followed the end of Rafiki's staff and saw that, indeed, Simba was finally making his way towards them through the thin mist that had began to form.

"Simba," Nala snapped, "you said you'd be here two hours ago. What took you so long?"

The lion king sighed. "I had to go to their pride, Nala," he replied. "Adrian has passed. Maziwi was inviting me to their funeral."

Nala gasped. "Oh gods, Simba, I'm so sorry," she replied. "Oh my," she moaned, "poor Anni, what's she going to do now?"

"It's all a mess," Simba confessed. "Sorry I couldn't eat with you tonight, they were serving up a banquet to lighten the mood. I felt obliged to join in."

"Of course, of course," Nala reassured him. "Don't worry, Simba, I'm sorry that I snapped. I know Adrian was a good friend of yours. Do you know what happened?"

Simba shook his head 'no.'

"Nobody does, Nal'," he replied, gloomily, "they're all trying to find out. It's a very turbulent time there right now." At this, Simba yawned. "Good grief, I'm sorry Nal', I've got to go to bed. It's been a long night."

"Of course," Nala replied again, "I'll catch up." She hung her head. "Poor Adrian," she muttered to herself. "Poor Anni."

* * *

"Why do you think they call them ladybugs?" asked Timon, tossing another red bug into his mouth.

"I think it's because the British always called them lady_birds_, and so they were renamed by Americans as part of their efforts to break away from the motherland," Pumbaa replied.

Timon sighed. "Pumbaa, why do I even ask you? That answer's bologna! Ladybugs aren't birds!"

Pumbaa hung his head in shame. Timon was right. His answer had been stupid.

"Hey, are you two Timon and Pumbaa?"

"AAAARRGGGHHH!" exclaimed the frightened duo, as Timon leapt up and hid behind Pumbaa's mane.

"No, it's alright," said the owner of the voice, "I'm not here to hurt you. I was wondering if you'd ask King Simba if I could join his pride?"

"Pfbt!" Timon remarked, looking down at the adolescent male lion "doubt it. Simba doesn't get on too well like rogues with you. Never known a lion from outside the Pridelands. Ain't that right, Pumbaa?"

"That's true," the warthog confessed, "but I think he could give this young guy a chance. Why'd you come here, buddy?"

"Our king died," the lion replied, sadly.

"Ah yes," Timon sighed, "we heard about that. No monarch, no control, huh? Hey, why didn't you just stay with your pride? You could have been king."

"It wouldn't have worked that easy," the lion replied. "Our lands were falling into ruin anyways."

"We saw!" Pumbaa exclaimed. "Thanks to you though, we get to eat bugs all along the border. Long grass and fallen logs _everywhere!"_

"Yeah," Timon agreed, "the Southern border is now the best place to hang out! For every yin there's a yan. True, we lost King Adrian, but we got bugs in return. One of those circle of life things, you know?"

"No, guys, I don't think you understand. I'm not from Adrian's pride. I'm from the Northern pride. Boris was our king. He died last night."

Timon and Pumbaa's jaws dropped.

"Two kings dead in one week," Pumbaa gasped. "What's going on? Does Simba know?"

"Perhaps we should ask him," Timon noted, observing that Simba was on his way over to join the group.

"Who are you?" snapped the lion king, "what are you doing here?"

"Our king, Boris, died last night," the lion replied. "There's anarchy everywhere. I would like to join your pride."

Simba stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh…" he replied. "Wow…that's eh…that's…"

"…not good?" suggested Pumbaa, attempting to finish Simba's sentence for him.

"Yeah," said Simba. "So…what happened?" he asked, amazed.

The young lion shook his head. "No idea," he replied, "he got attacked, I can tell you that much. Don't know what, don't know who. All we know is he went out that night, and all we could find in the morning was fur and blood."

"Th—that's terrible," replied the lion king. "I—I hate to say it though, but I can't pass judgment on you yet. I need to check the facts for myself before I can accept anyone into the pride. I'll meet you here tomorrow, okay?"

The young lion heaved a deep sigh of relief. He knew he was telling the truth. Simba would find out that he was right, and he would be able to join the Pridelands.

"Thank you, your majesty," he replied, gratefully.

With that, the young lion turned around and left.

"What's killing all the kings?" asked Pumbaa. "Simba, aren't you frightened?"

"Of course I am!" replied Simba, nervously. "I have _no_ idea what I need to do – we've all got to think this through." Simba looked around anxiously for a second before remembering why he'd came to see his pals in the first place. "Have you seen my mother today?" he asked.

"Yes, your majesty!" Pumbaa replied gleefully, happy that he could help his friend out. "She wanted to leave a message for you. She said she was heading to the Southern pride to pay her respects to Adrian's pride."

"She _what?"_

"I went to pay my respects to Adrian's pride," the former queen replied, her voice piercing Simba's ears from behind him.

Simba's whirled around. His face fell.

"O—oh…" he stammered, "m—mother…there you are."

Sarabi had expected such a reaction.

"We need to talk," she stated.

"Yes, Mom, indeed," Simba replied. "Guys…please excuse us for a few minutes," he added, turning towards Timon and Pumbaa. "Come on Mom, let's go to the back den at Pride Rock. That place is deserted. We can talk in private there."

* * *

"YOU LIED TO ALL OF US!" exclaimed Sarabi, right as the sun dipped behind the horizon. Her voice ran off the cave walls and echoed out of the den.

"I didn't have a choice!" Simba yelled back. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? But there's so much more to this than you know. It would go over your head."

"I've had enough of this," Sarabi snapped back. "Don't speak to me again until you've got this all sorted out, okay?"

Simba didn't reply. He just watched his mom depart the back den. As soon as she was gone he slumped down onto the floor and heaved a sigh of relief. His mom had a knack of making people answer. If he could make it through her wrath, he could…

"Simba."

Simba looked up.

_Oh no._

"Simba…what's…going…on?" asked Nala, giving him a perplexed glance as she looked around the cave. There was nothing different about it. It still stank of hyenas and was still littered with bones and hyena fur across the floor. It was small signs like this that reminded them all how recent Scar's reign really had been.

"It's not something that can be explained easily, Nal'."

"I figured that," the lioness confessed. "It also seems like something you don't want to talk about, so I'll tell you what, how about we talk about something else?"

"Sounds great," chuckled Simba out of delight. That really did sound great.

"Okay," Nala replied, content that they had came to an agreement, "if you had lions visiting you in the jungle all the time, how come Timon and Pumbaa were so on edge around me?"

"How do you mean?" Simba asked back.

"Well…Timon and Pumbaa never really took well to me when we first met. It was like they were uncomfortable with having another lion around."

"Timon and Pumbaa never met any of the lions, Nala. I knew they'd be scared so I tried to keep them away from them."

"Alright," Nala replied. "Anyhow…did you ever get to speak with the king on the western border? Their lands still look rough. The hunting lands on the Southern border are also getting worse. They've gone to ruin since Adrian died and now all the herds are scattering elsewhere."

"I know," Simba moaned in response, "I don't know what's going on, Nal'. I'm giving them all my best advice. I don't know why that's not working for them. Obviously Adrian's situation is out of our control but…yeah…I really don't know what's up with the west. I need to sit down and have a talk with their king, but I just haven't had any time recently."

"I would never have guessed," Nala replied sarcastically. "Is that why you haven't eaten with me in four weeks?"

Simba shook his head. "Nal', I'm sorry, all I've been able to do is snack off of bugs with Timon and Pumbaa whenever I've gotten a rest."

"Besides the banquet at Adrian's funeral."

"Huh?" asked Simba.

"Th—the banquet you went to at Adrian's funeral. That night I was waiting for you at the waterhole."

"What are you…oh wait, yeah, yeah…" Simba replied feebly. Simba could already read his mate's expression though. She didn't buy it.

"Simba," Nala warned.

The lion king gave in. He heaved a sigh. "Okay," he replied, "you've got me. I never went to the funeral. That's what Mom was upset about."

Nala was completely bewildered.

"Why did you lie about that?" she began, taking a step towards her mate.

"Because…well…Nala…honestly, I don't even know if there _was_ a funeral. I know the members of Adrian's pride and I do _not_ trust Maziwi at all. I didn't want her to escort me alone to their home…it just…didn't have a good ring to it."

"So what happened?" asked Nala, taking another step closer to her mate.

"Well we argued a bit and then she ran off," Simba replied. "I don't know where she went after that."

"But then why would she…OW!" yelped Nala, stepping forwards onto a sharp bone. Mad with the bone, she kicked it out of the way and knocked it into a nearby skeleton.

"Why would she not go back to her hom…" Nala began, but it was at that moment that she saw the dread in Simba's eyes.

And she knew why.

Slowly, Nala twisted her head sideways and took a look back over at the skeleton.

It was the skeleton of a lion.

And he only had three legs.

Nala felt her heart skip a beat. Perhaps even two. She couldn't believe it.

"A—Adrian…" she stammered.

Simba shot up onto his feet.

"Nala…" he cautioned.

Nala looked at her mate, shocked.

"Y—you didn't…"

"Nala…listen…"

"Simba…what's going on?" asked Nala. She was petrified. Simba was beginning to get frustrated with her interruptions. He took a step forward and began to advance towards her.

"Nala, look, nothing's going on. You're reading too much into this…"

"You had a meeting with him and now he's wound up dead here!"

"Nala, you're…"

"What happened with Boris? And the king on the western pride too? Is that why their lands have gone to ruin?" Nala's voice picked up with each word as she was beginning to speed walk backwards, yet she could not take her focus away from her husband's eyes.

"No, Nala, listen…you're completely off track here…"

Finally, Nala stopped taking flight. She turned back on her mate and pinned him to the ground. Snarling, she bared her teeth down on him, letting him know of how unhappy she was.

"Simba, tell me the truth!" she exclaimed, roaring in his face. At the shocked look of Simba's expression, she decided to relax the edge in her voice a little. Perhaps that would be a better way to get answers. Nala let a small snarl escape the sides of her mouth. "Tell – me – the – truth – _please_," she said firmly, yet quietly. She was struggling to hide her real feelings though. Butterflies were filling her gut. Her hope upon hopes was that the truth was not what she feared it was.

Simba was breathing deeply, but he knew he had no choice. He gulped.

"I killed them," he confessed.

Nala choked. Her snarl had gone and she released the pressure off of her mate. She fell back off of him and started falling apart on the floor.

"W—why?" she asked.

Simba shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"You can't tell _me?"_ Nala cried. "I'm your frickin' mate! If you can't tell me, who the heck can you tell? Where were you during the funeral?"

"Nal', there wasn't a funeral!"

"Then why did Maziwi come to see you?"

"She didn't. She was lo…she was looking for…"

"She was looking for Adrian," Nala finished for him. "So what, you killed her too? And then abandoned the idea of eating with me because you couldn't face me with the guilt."

"That's not why I abandoned you, I'm always open to speaking with you."

Nala crossed her paws.

"Really?" she asked, raising a brow. "Then why didn't you spend the night with me?"

Simba bit his lip. She had led him right into it. Whether she would forgive him or not was up to her, and he wouldn't blame her either way. One thing was for sure though, if Nala didn't forgive him, she wasn't going to leave the cave alive.

Simba opened his mouth, but no words came out. As soon as he answered, he knew she would be able to put it all together: why he had killed them, why Timon and Pumbaa had never met the other lions in the jungle, how he'd been able to survive in the jungle and, of course, the fate of Maziwi…

"I was full," the lion king replied.

* * *

"OKAY!" Simba exclaimed. "That's the last time we let _you_ tell a story, Nala. Kopa, bed time, now."

"Wait…wait…how did it end?" Kopa asked. "You let Mom live?"

"Kopa, the story's complete bullsh…"

"Yes, he let me live," Nala replied. "I forgave him and helped him change his ways."

"And what about grandma?"

"I never knew he was a cannibal," Sarabi reasoned. "He just never told me what was going on. That's why I was mad with him."

"Mom, you're playing along too?"

"So why didn't you just eat the lionesses, Dad? It would have been less suspicious."

"He liked the taste of the kings better," Kopa's mom replied. "After his trip to the jungle, he remembered how much he loved the taste of lion and so he would refuse to eat anything else upon his return. The kings were who he kept having meetings with so, why not them?"

Simba groaned. "Nala," he muttered in his mate's ear, "don't you think Kopa's too young to be listening to stories like this?"

Nala sighed. "Alright, seems like our big, strong king here isn't going to sleep tonight unless we tell a _less_ frightening Halloween story. Anyone else got a good one?"

"No'ting like a good story to help wind down for bed," Rafiki reasoned, swinging down from the rocks above. "I t'ink we should hear at least one more story. The tenth full moon only comes once a year, you know."

* * *

**(A/N: The title is a parody of the German cannibal "Mr. Miewes" who put an ad out on the Internet for someone to be eaten…and got someone to consent to it. What kind of story would you all like to see next? I'm planning on 6 at most.)**


End file.
